


End Of The Affair

by sorrowthesparrow



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, Demiromantic, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Happy Ending, M/M, Maybe Kink?, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Sad John, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Tongue Piercings, grey-sexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrowthesparrow/pseuds/sorrowthesparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade runs into John three years after the last episode.  A lot has changed since then. John seems to be playing catch up since his return to London. His return to London reveals he didn't know much about who he was and what he wanted for a long time. Now that he knows, he wants to finally be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I can’t believe I ran into you just like that! I thought you were going to see the world with Mary, eh?” Greg leans forward nudging John with his shoulder. They are making their way to the pub down the street that they always went to back when things were believe it or not, simpler.

“Mmmhm. Well, Mary and I are more or less taking a break?” John pulls his coat tighter against his body. This is a bit of a delicate subject. How does one tell his friend that he and his wife are taking a break because his desires and kinks manifested so late in his life?

“Is that a question or a statement, mate?” It is interesting how much lighter Greg seems. He seems to have finally found himself since his divorce. He feels like he knows who he is. John thought he knew who he was all along. He thought he knew himself when he signed up for the army. It challenged, shaped, and changed him. He soon became a hollow imprint of the man he thought he was, until he met Sherlock. Sherlock not only brought back the man he used to be, but he also added to and brought into question the man John thought he was. All of a sudden everyone thought he and Sherlock were together. Try as he may, he struggled to see what was so unorthodox and shocking about his friendship with Sherlock and maybe that should have been his first clue. It was never just a friendship. He knows Sherlock loved him and he in turn loved Sherlock. But Sherlock was...complicated. It was hard to have them make much of their interactions when you had a demi-romantic gray-sexual in Sherlock, and a hypersexual confused John. John can remember when he Sherlock came back, after the devastating moment of watching his best friend, his confidant, his maybe lover end his own life, and then suddenly come back like nothing happened, it hurt. They stayed friends. They stayed in contact, but that was all. They were meant to be and thus stayed best friends. But Greg, John hadn't even-

“Did I lose you?” Greg laughs flicking the tip of John’s ear to get his attention.

“Oh, fuck! Sorry. I-”

“That was a personal question that you obviously don’t have to answer, John. I thought you knew that” Greg cocks his head to side as if he is not understanding John’s behavior. Maybe John is acting odd.

“Not at all, let me get you a drink, yeah? What will it be?”  John asks as he stands from the booth he wasn't even aware he was sitting in. When did they get to the bar? How long had he been zoned out?

“Just a pint, mate. I was heading home when I ran into you and since I am not in my twenties anymore, I do need to drink a lot more carefully”, Greg smiles a dirty smile that let’s John know that even though Greg is not twenty anymore, and has not been in a very long while, it does not mean he isn't…something. John is not sure.

He makes his way to the bar and orders their drinks. He orders one more drink for himself so can match Lestrade drink for drink. He has a feeling he is far too sober for what he wants to tell Greg.

They are four more drinks deep than they had planned when Greg brings it up. “So, now that you and Mary are....are you looking for Sherlock?” He doesn't put his drink down, instead letting the glass hover over his mouth, amplifying the depth of his gravelly voice.

John smirks back because he should have expected this.

“No, not at all actually. I know where Sherlock is. Sherlock and I...we were-”

“Complicated?” Greg tries to finish and John sets his drink down using his freed hand to run his fingers through his newly cut hair.

“Yes...that. But also, not a couple at all. We never even kissed or whatever” He glances at Greg from below his lashes and he can see the light alcohol flush on Greg’s cheeks.

“Mmmhm.”  
  
"Just a lot of tension and sexual energy, you know?" 

"I see"

They end up not talking about what John wanted to talk about, even though he had had many opportunities to bring it up.

He waits until they finish their drinks; leave the bar with a brief hug, and get back to their homes before he texts Greg. He has a few more drinks to keep himself on task.

1:33 AM  
 _I think I am broken ~ JW_

He waits. He doesn't get a response back immediately and that has him panicking. He types out excuses that he doesn't send because they sound extremely immature for a man his age. He can’t claim to be texting someone else because even then, Greg would know he was admitting something like this to someone.

2:44 AM  
 _ **Why would you say that? ~ GL**_

John is not sure how to respond to that. He walks around the room a few times and decides to make some tea. It is a whole 3 minutes when the tea is done and in his cup when he responds.

2: 47 AM  
 _I like sex. A lot. I want to date almost every mate I have. ~ JW_

2: 50 AM  
 _ **Every one of them? What do you mean? Are you...did you cheat on Mary? Sherlock? ~ GL**_

John can understand why this is where Greg’s mind goes first. He was cheated on by his wife. She took his trust and fucked it up. He understands, except that is not what it is for John, not at all.

2:51 AM  
 _I never stay. When I feel that...desire. I always tell them, I swear. But it is hard for them to understand, you know? I mean, what would you say if we were together and I told you ‘Greg, I really want to fuck and be with this other person...and you.' It is fucked up! ~ JW_

3:12 AM  
 ** _Not really. And for the record, I would want to talk about it. You sound poly--something-- I don’t know how you feel well enough to tell you which one but...I might let you fuck them. If you were still with me, I would want you to be happy, I guess. I don’t know. I think I would try to give you everything you wanted. I guess that includes other people. ~ GL_**

John stops pacing; he sets the phone down, sits down on the floor, gets up, and quickly yanks off his clothes to head for the shower. He can’t think with all the alcohol in his system. It wasn't really smart to confide in someone when he is pissed drunk, but fuck. What was he supposed to do? Other than Sherlock, Greg is the first person to not call him odd or greedy or a slut.

He runs the water hot, the heat of it aiding in clearing his alcohol muddled thoughts.

He doesn't stay too long but when he gets out, he realizes he still doesn't know what to say to that.

4: 00 AM  
 _Yeah? ~ JW_

4: 00 AM  
 ** _Yes, John. ~GL_**

For what seems like the umpteenth time tonight, John doesn't know how to respond. He is getting aroused and he is not even sure why. He falls asleep trying to figure out what to respond with.


	2. London, London, London is calling you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real chapter two is up! 
> 
> Greg suggests that John use this time to explore. He volunteers to take him out on the pull.

John wakes up to a series of chirps. His phone keeps going off. He reaches for it quickly as he remembers that he was talking to Greg. He opens his eyes to face the bright light coming from the large window that he’d forgotten to draw the curtains for. It feels so odd living in a hotel.

He pulls himself upright and grabs his phone.

4:40 AM  
 ** _Good night, John. ~ GL_**

5:00 AM  
You are back. Shame about Mary. ~ S.Holmes   


5: 01 AM  
That was insensitive I gather. Let us pretend I do not know that you and Mary are not together at the moment. Let us meet and catch up. ~ S. Holmes

Well isn’t that interesting, an apologetic Sherlock. John shoots back a response about meeting sometime this coming week and for Sherlock to let him know when he is free. According to their little updates Sherlock isn’t much of a detective anymore. He spends most of his time in a chem lab, researching, working, and theorizing. According to him, he has nothing much to prove anymore. He doesn’t have to be the antithesis of his father, nor does he have to prove he is just as cunning as Mycroft. Sherlock responds with time and place, next week at a cafe in the posh side of town. John supposes that is the end for Sherlock living in places like Baker Street.

Moving on John checks the rest of his texts, many are from Mary with updates of their daughter, to which he promptly responds. He knows there is a text from Greg that he is avoiding. He had read the last one from when he fell asleep and for some reason, he is a little anxious about reading this one. He drags it out, responding to all the other texts, even ones from last week from Harry wishing him a good trip back home. He has had breakfast, showered, and is lounging on the couch by the time he reads them. They show up all at once and John’s eyes bounce across the phone screen and all he sees is ‘cock’.

4: 41 AM  
 _ **If we keep drinking like this I won’t be able to walk straight, let alone get my cock up. Ha! A real pity for the lass I am with next. ~ GL**_

Greg talking about sex with John isn’t exactly new. They talked about it vaguely back when they were working together. They’d sit in bar, drink, and talk about women. It never got that graphic though, it never got really in depth because one, John was far too occupied with Sherlock and his own interactions to really ask about Greg, and two, he and Greg never really texted outside of texting about case. Again, Sherlock.

He reaches between his legs and rubs his cock. He isn’t disappointed to find it is soft; he spent the night and early morning drinking, so of course it is soft. Regardless of his current lack of erection, the idea of Greg’s cock kind of titillates him. He wonders what it looks like and feels like being that he hadn’t actually been with a lot of men. The last man he was with was years back in university so he doesn’t really know how Greg will compare. He runs his hand up and down his stomach, feeling the bumps and ridges of his muscles. He imagines a hand, much larger than his, Sherlock’s maybe, or even Greg’s moving up into his hair and pulling it a bit. His own hand follows these movements, down his neck and chest and then stopping at his nipples to twist and rub. He reaches down further past his cock to press at the space between his balls and arsehole. He imagines another hand, much smaller and feminine tracing his lips, and fuck, they were all right, even in his fantasies he is a greedy slut. The memory of the pejorative names is like a splash of cold water and the mood is gone.

He continues to read the texts.

4: 44 AM  
 ** _Ignore that, not making much sense. Goodnight, John. ~ GL_**

8: 00 AM  
 _ **Harsh night, mate. Hope you are doing much better than I am. I am heading out to get fatty takeaway later. Nandos maybe? Heading out at 1:00, let me know if you want to join me. ~ GL**_

12: 12 PM  
 _Greg, hope it is not too late, I’ll see you there at 1. ~ JW_

12: 12 PM  
 _ **Perfect. ~ GL**_

John takes a taxi because it will a lot quicker and makes his way to the restaurant. Inside, the waiter asks him some questions that he honestly does not listen to but answers anyway. He has been here enough times and they always ask the same questions.

‘Have you been here before?’, ‘are you eating in or having take away?’, ‘How many are needing to be seated?’ Bla bla bla. John interrupts the man with a hand on his shoulder. “I am here with someone, I see him. I’ll just go over”

He starts to walk towards where Greg is seated at the back of the restaurant and almost missing the “Enjoy your meal, sir!” from the waiter.

Greg looks up then, his face splitting with a slight smirk that warms his eyes. He stands and gives John a brief hug when John reaches the table. He doesn't remember being on hugging terms with Lestrade before last night. He doesn't remember many people ever touching him actually while he lived at Baker Street. He thinks it might because Sherlock hated being touched unnecessarily and thus everyone, Greg included, assumed John was the same way.

John realizes he is running his fingers through his own hair when they pull back. It is something from his youth that he has been doing since he got back to London. John doesn't remember having this nervous tick after joining army but it seems to be back

“You look good, John. I didn't mention it before but yeah, you look good” Greg smiles as he sits back down again. John can feel like face heat up and his hand is back in hair again. Fuck.  
“Yeah?” He smirks, because he can’t tell if this is what he thinks it is. He was never the best at reading people and besides, he doesn't remember Greg ever mentioning that he was interested blokes anyway.

Greg laughs as he responds, his chest filling with air and head tipping back like this is the most entertaining thing he’s seen in a long time. “Yes, mate. You look good.”  
-

They order soon after that and eat in relative silence. Updating each other on what has changed because even though they tried, they didn't really keep in touch as best as John had anticipated. Greg was busy at the yard and his promotions never really lent time for mild chats about their days.

It is during this silence that Greg’s phone rings.

“Sorry, I have to take this.”

“Salut à toi!..oui je mange….merci de me le rappeler...a plus a tard. Bonne journée .”

The conversation is over as quickly as it began. Greg places the phone back into his pocket and looks up at John. His facial expression must be comical because Greg smiles and then laughs.

“Are you okay there, mate?”

“Aye. You speak fluent French?” John can’t help back ask. “With that accent?”

“Oh that’s right, you never did meet my kids.” Greg reaches for the napkin and wipes his mouth. “Yeah, Matthieu and Annaleise are francophones. Well truly bilingual because my side of the family doesn't really speak that much French but since Carla and I didn't speak much English at home, they sort know me as French speaking. You know?”

John nods like he understands, because that is better than repeating the same thing about the fact that Greg speaks French and that his voice sounds so sexy when he does so. It is deep and soothing, like Sherlock’s.

“I feel really rude now, but how old are they again?”

“I never actually told you, or maybe you never asked, whichever. Matthieu is 19 and Annaleise is 18.” Greg looks proud while divulging this information. Even though he wasn’t there for most of their adolescent lives, even though their mother cheated on him and still managed to keep the kids, Greg seems happy and alright. He seems alright. Maybe John will be just the same with his daughter.

“Mmmhm, I am sorry about that. It seems I have been a shit friend”

“Oh, not at all. You were busy with Sherlock, or at least trying to figure that out, it took up a lot of your attention and time. The desire to cultivate a relationship is nothing to be apologetic about.”

“Yeah. I suppose.”  John desperately wants to change the subject. For some reason he feels rather shitty ignoring Greg like he had all these years. Sherlock had know Greg far longer than he had and from what he knows, Sherlock knew close to nothing about Greg’s personal life, everything he knew was through deduction and not real conversation. And when John finally came on the scene, he was so enamored with Sherlock he hardly realized that he was ignoring his only other close friend in the entirety of London.  They stand and make their way outside, it is a little awkward because John does not want to just go back to his hotel, he wants to spend more time with Greg, he wants to know his friend, but he also doesn't want to push himself onto Greg.

“Where are you living now?”

“Oh! I am at hotel right now, I need to find a place soon”

“At hotel?! John! The expense!” Greg looks down at him like he is bonkers. John is still uncertain as to why it always surprises him that people are taller than he is, but yeah, when Greg looks down his own shoulder at John, it shocks him. It is kind of hot.

“I know! I know!” John stuffs his hands in pockets to avoid running his fingers through his hair again. Greg must think he is cold or something because he moves closer, pressing his entire side, from shoulder to foot, against John’s side. If John didn't know any better he would think Greg was coming onto him except  for the fact that Greg is pretty straight as far as he knows.

“Come stay with me” Greg proposes without looking down at John this time. His eyes are scanning the streets for a taxi.

“What?”

“Well, you stayed with Sherlock before, but you know, he moved. I am offering. Move in with me, share the rent, and if you want, once you have gotten settled, you can move out”

“Mmmhm, taking over from where Sherlock left off, are you?” John smirks as he rubs his cold nose against Greg’s arm.

“Uhm” Greg crosses his arms across his chest, breaking their contact at the arm.  

Fuck. John didn't mean for it to come out sounding so flirtatious. “ I mean. Well. You know what I mean, and it is not that. I mean-”

“It is fine, John. I knew what you meant.” His smile is tight though and not reaching his eyes when he looks down at John.

Because John didn't intend on moving with most of the stuff in the house he shared with Mary, he didn't  have much to take with him to Greg’s. They stopped by his hotel, piled his suitcases into the taxi, and made their way across town to Greg’s.

-  
“We should go out tonight. Get you loosened up, maybe you might even pull?” Greg suggests hours later after John has officially moved in. They are sitting on the couch watching crap telly. “That is what you want  isn't it? To explore and see what you like again?”

“I don’t know, I am still not really comfortable with my desires. I don’t know how a stranger would change that?”  John straightens and pulls his feet out from under to stretch them out on the couch space between them.

Greg slides towards him, lifting his feet and placing them on his lap. “Your feet are pushing against my bad leg, it is better like this” He says and John notices that his feet are positioned right over Greg’s crotch. He says nothing about it.

“I mean, what kind of desires are we talking about here?”

“I am not sure. I...I like and want sex?” He turns to look at Greg imploring him to understand but instead, Greg laughs.

“I think we all do, mate. Elaborate.”

“I just want to fuck all the time. I am more often than not really fucking turned on and before, with Sherlock, the tension was so high. I’d wank all over the house and he’d watch- “ He glances at Greg who has started to gently massage his feet. “At first I had no idea I liked that he watched, you know? But after a while it was about that. A lot of the women I was seeing at time couldn't handle that.”

“What, the thing with Sherlock or your high sex drive?”

“Both? I mean they always wanted me to choose, you know? I was either intimate with them or with Sherlock but never both.”

“And you wanted both?” Greg asks, his fingers hitting a particularly sensitive spot on John’s foot.

“Fuck yeah! Both” His words come out breathy and light. He looks at Greg to make sure he understands where this conversation is about to go.

“You can wank if you want, you know? I am secure enough in our friendship to understand it for what it is, physical stimulation and memories of intense sexual experiences. If you need to do that, that’s fine by me.” He smirks and continues to massage John’s feet. John feels odd. It is one thing to do this with Sherlock knowing what they are both getting from it, but with Greg, John would be wanting something that Greg does not.

“No, it’s fine.” He decides that if he is going to have Greg feature in his fantasies while sitting right there, at the very least they need to both know that he is not just thinking about Sherlock and the other women.

“Mmh. Orgasm denial, kinky! I like it” Greg wags his eyebrows suggestively and then laughs, John joins in. “Seriously though, let’s go out, have you back out there and then you start experiencing what you want. What you truly want and desire.”

“Okay. Why not?” He finally gives in and Greg’s smile widens.  
  
“Atta boy!” Greg winks and pulls John’s feet deeper into his crotch. John is starting to think he is making these innuendo filled situations up in his head. What is he, a fucking teenager?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also the conversation between Greg and his son is about reminding Greg to eat. Greg thanks him for reminding and then says bye.


	3. Do you like her?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend is finally here and John and Greg are going to the club. Greg is insisting that John make the choice of where they are going tonight. It is a bit awkward, he feels like he could go anywhere, really, but Greg keeps pressing him to pick the kind of crowd he wants to spend the evening with. John stalls because he isn't sure he is comfortable revealing that his taste in partners varies so drastically he is bound to find someone he likes in most bars and clubs regardless. Most of his ex girlfriends and lovers called it indecisive and greedy. Sherlock and his therapist referred to it as pansexual, a term he clearly prefers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick reminder, everyone's sexuality and romantic attraction exists on a spectrum. Just because the characters identify as a specific sexuality and romantic orientation does not mean they are representative of everyone within the perimeters of said orientation. 
> 
> ENJOY!

The weekend is finally here and John and Greg are going to the club. Greg is insisting that John make the choice of where they are going tonight. It is a bit awkward, he feels like he could go anywhere, really, but Greg keeps pressing him to pick the kind of crowd he wants to spend the evening with. John stalls because he isn't sure he is comfortable revealing that his taste in partners varies so drastically he is bound to find someone he likes in most bars and clubs regardless. Most of his ex girlfriends and lovers called it indecisive and greedy. Sherlock and his therapist referred to it as pansexual, a term he clearly prefers.

“We can go to Crosses, if you want.” John could barely hear Greg over the shower water running.

“What, mate?” He turns the water off momentarily and tries to listen for what Greg had just said from outside the door, but still he cannot hear very much. He turns the water back on and continues to rinse the conditioner out of his hair. This is the only time he really feels comfortable with his hands his hair. For some reason this little nervous tick of his has returned and along with it the fascination with having his hair pulled by a lover, too, has resurfaced. He tries to remember when he became so repressed that even his-

“I was saying-”

“FUCK!” John jumps in surprise and loses his footing in the slippery tub. He wasn't expecting Greg’s voice to come from such close proximity. Even as he struggles not to fall, he finds that he did not expect the strong hand that reaches around the shower curtain to grab his arm and keep him from falling either. Why was Greg in here? Is this something that friends do? Truly? Because he really can’t compare.

His closest friends in his youth played rugby with him and thus they were often in the locker room showering together.

In the army, privacy was not something you counted on and so you did everything where everyone else could see and of course, the most confusing of all, Sherlock.

Sherlock constantly barged in when John was in the bathroom. It wasn't that he was unaware of social graces; it was that he didn't give a fuck.

Greg may be crossing a line here but for the second time since they reconnected, John has no real reference that would tell him whether or not this was more than just friendship behavior.

“Are you okay now? Not going to fall again, are you?” Greg smirks as he lets go of John. Greg is standing in front of him bare-chested and try as he might, John cannot not look at the wide expanse of his chest and his pierced nipples.

“Yeah, thanks. Don’t sneak up on me like that though, fuck!” John exclaims again, tugging to shower curtain back in place. He does it mostly to stop himself from staring.

“Aye” Greg chuckles. “I told you I was coming in but I guess you couldn't hear me.”

“Mmmhm” 

“I was saying that we could go to Crosses. It is has a mixed crowd so you can get your choice of who you really want to --” John can see the outline of Greg’s body, hands gesturing in the air.

“Choice of who I want to fuck, you mean?”

“More or less, yes.”

While it seems considerate, the idea of Greg suggesting this rubs John the wrong way for some reason. John continues to shower, he is conscious of the fact that even though they aren't really saying much anymore, Greg has decided to take a seat on the closed toilet.

John decides that regardless of what Greg is choosing to do, he is going to continue enjoying his shower. If Greg is going to sit there and watch him, then he is going to enjoy that too. He leans into the hot stream as he runs his soapy fingers through his hair, down his chest, and even lower to his balls. His hands move aimlessly over his body again. He lightly tugs his balls away from his body and massaging them in a way that most of his ex lovers could not resist doing. 

It has been a long time since he has felt so uncertain about an interaction with someone and as much as he might hate it, he gets off on the maybe, maybe not, feeling. He runs his fingers up and down his body another time, arching his back, and then flexing his arms and legs. He basks in the feeling of indulging his exhibitionist side and does not expect it when suddenly he hears a phone go off.

He turns around and through the transparent shower curtain he can see Greg hunched over his phone on the toilet. He turns the water off in irritation, yanking the towel off the rack, wrapping it around his waist, and sliding the curtain aside.

“Oh! You are done, good.” Greg looks up from the phone as if he was staring at it this entire time.

“You were texting?” John is sounding upset and he doesn't even know why.

“Yes. Some mates from the Yard wanted to know if I was coming to the pub to watch re plays of last week’s game.”

John nods slowly, turning to the side a little because suddenly he feeling more than a little exposed. “Are you going?”

“No. I have a hot date at the club tonight” Greg winks as he stands and ruffles John’s hair. When he pulls away his fingers get caught in John’s wet hair and it tugs at the root. Fuck.

John can hear it. He can hear the very sexual grunt that has just escaped from him. He wants to get away from this situation, he really does, but Greg is taking a step towards him with his an eyebrow raised in question so John does nothing. Greg glances down John’s body, his eyes stopping at John waist and semi. “You weren't kidding when you said you are always keyed up, damn”

“Oh sod off!” He smiles along. “Like you aren't”. He adds as he pushes Greg backwards and makes his way to his bedroom.

~ 

John takes his time getting dressed. Mary had once mentioned that Sherlock had changed him in this regard that his fashion sense had changed. With Mary, he had begun collecting items of clothing, something his previous therapist might have referred to as an homage to Sherlock, a way for John to have him there even when he wasn't there.

John doesn't really give those ideas much thought though he is just glad he appreciates the feel of a good suit now.

  
He pulls on a crisp white shirt, a pair of dark blue trousers, and a matching jacket. His brightly colored socks and brown shoes are last to go on. He moves towards the mirror and looks at himself. All together his outfit is nowhere near as expensive as Sherlock’s socks, but it fits better than what he used to wear. The tailored casual suit accentuates his broad shoulders and strong back. Looking at John now, you could tell he exercised, you could tell that even though it had been a long time since his army days, he still tried to keep fit. He was without a doubt fitter than most guys, older or younger.

John he fastens his Stainless-steel Vintage 1969 El Primero watch last. Retailing at £ 5,045.51 the watch is the most expensive thing he has and will ever own. He handles it with care, taking it out of the casing, unfastening it and sliding it down his wrist.  
Mary had seen him do this many times after a shower. She even confessed once that at first she thought he took his time putting the watch back on because of how expensive it was, and that it had taken her a whole year to realize that he did this because it was a gift from Sherlock. Back then, he’d felt embarrassed by the idea that he always wore the watch ad only took it off to shower.  
He used to feel embarrassment about that fact that as married man, he wore this gift from a friend just as often as he wore his wedding ring. Back then, he didn’t want to admit what he and Sherlock had. Now though, he wears it proudly, he enjoys knowing that he has worn it for so long that when he takes it off, he can see the engraved words “ _I appreciate you ~ Yours, WSSH”_ etched on his skin.

John takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror again and then makes his way outside the bedroom. He can hear Greg’s bare feet on the wooden floors of the flat. He pulls his coat tighter over his body. He is a little curious about what Greg is going to say about his change of dress because although his fashion sense has changed, the changes are a lot more subtle during the day. He prepares himself to face Greg’s reaction as he rounds the corner to living room where Greg is bent over lacing up a pair of boots. He is so consumed with what he thinks Greg’s reaction is going to be that he fails to prepare himself for his own to Greg.

Greg is wearing all black, a tight fitting v neck t-shirt that does nothing to hide the barbells in his nipples, a pair of black jeans, and shiny doc martens. He looks nothing like Gregory Lestrade of New Scotland Yard. His hair is cut close to his head, its silver a stark contrast to his all black outfit. His wrists accessorized with layers of black leather bracelets and John can see a leather cord necklace with a silver d-ring in the middle of it around his neck. He looks...punk?

“Well don’t we look like an interesting pair” Greg smiles when he finally looks up and notices John standing a few feet away from him.

“Punk?” John asks, and it is really a shame that his mind thinks that is full sentence.

“A little bit of something from my punk past, yes, and a little bit of something else, as well. Get a few drinks in me and maybe you’ll get to hear about it” He adds with a cheeky smirk.

 

They decide to take the tube to Crosses all the way in Hammersmith. The carriage is packed even at this time. John is standing by the pole, clutching it tight as to not lose balance and slam into the woman in front of him. Greg is right behind him, his body pressed close against John’s back.

The woman in front of John smells amazing. He keeps glancing down at her and wondering what her body would look like in better lighting, what her voice would sound like, how her face-

“Do you like her?” Greg is close when he whispers this. John can feel Greg’s warm breath against his ear and neck and it sends a shiver through his body. He doesn't really know how to respond to that so he merely nods.

“She looks nothing like Sherlock, Sarah, or Mary. Which of them is your type?” More people seem to enter the carriage and Greg presses closer. John debates his next move a couple of more times before he whispers 'fuck it' and decides to go for it.   
He leans his head back against Greg’s shoulder and immediately feels Greg’s other hand come around his waist grip the railing as well, effectively caging him there.

“All of them, Greg” His other hand moves to lightly rest against Greg’s thigh behind him. He squeezes once and then just rests his hand there.

“I see”

They stay like that for six more stops even as the bulk of people make their way out. When they are near their stop and the carriage is mostly empty, only then do they separate and sit down.


	4. In The Case Of Threes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Greg arrive at the club. John gets the attention of a couple people and loves it. However, when Greg starts attracting attention of his own, John doesn't love that as much.

John is a little glad to be out in the night air when they exit the tube station. What happened with Greg was kind of unexpected and to be fair he is still not sure if he is over thinking things because aside from the closeness, Greg didn't actually touch John at all. He glances over at Greg as they walk, taking in his look again.

“I can’t believe you are actually punk, mate” John says tightening his coat to escape the cold. Greg merely smiles and shrugs. “I do have a life beyond being Gregory Lestrade the copper.”

“I know, it’s just a little unexpected that is all”

They make their way to the club entrance and they can already hear the music. It is a little loud but not enough to be able to tell what song is playing.

“I forgot to ask, have you been here before?” John asks as they enter the large doors and into a dark three story building.

“Uh huh”

“To pull?” John has to know for some reason, he chalks it up to the need to know more about his friend, who responds with a slow cheeky smirk.

They spend a couple of minutes scoping the place out. If they were just regular friends, one could say they were curious about the place, but as an ex military man and a current police officer, it was in their nature to check before letting their guard down.

They walk silently from the first floor that has a bar and dance floor to the second floor, a quiet pub and food place, and then to the third floor that had heavy techno music playing. The first floor was the most varied one, it hosted a crowd of people from different backgrounds with variations in age, sexuality, and gender. They decide that the first floor is more of what they want and make their way to the bar.

John feels loose and relaxed from the music blasting from the all too near speakers. He sips his pint as he scans the crowd.

“I like it here, mate. Thanks for bringing me” John smiles as he leans his shoulder against Greg’s. With a few drinks in him as he is now, his body is vibrating for some physical contact and the memory of being so close to Greg from earlier is all he can think about. He presses closer, as close as the bar stool will let him. Greg chuckles and steps off of his stool. He steps in front of John looking straight into his light ocean floor colored eyes. John watches him back, shamelessly eyeing him as he lets his knees part further. Greg glances down at the exposed apex of John’s legs and with a soft smile; he pulls his stool closer to John’s.

“It wasn't an entirely selfless action on my part, Hamish”. He laughs as he plops down on the stool again, his side now entirely pressed against John. John smiles back, patting Greg’s thigh in equal amusement.

They end up talking about very little as the music is quite loud and yelling over the music is only going to lead to them losing their voices. John feels good. He feels cool with his clothes, he feels powerful, and sexy, with Greg’s proximity only working to add to his confidence.

So when Greg leans in close, telling John that he has caught someone’s attention, John merely smirks as he turns his head to where Greg is looking. The woman looking at him is across the room. He can see her, but just barely. Most of her body is obscured by the people dancing around her, but he can see her. She smiles back though, so he knows she is very much interested in...something. When she looks away, dancing to music, Greg leans in and asks John he sees it.

“What do you mean?” John asks and Greg tells him to look again. John looks at her again, but he still cannot see very much of her to be able to see any of what Greg might be talking about. Emboldened by the alcohol flowing through his system, he cocks his head slightly, calling her over. He can see her eyes looking over his and Greg’s close proximity as she walks towards them. She looks at Greg’s hand behind John’s back, their thighs touching; John’s shoulder nestled into Greg’s body. She cocks her head to the side at that and smirks. That action reminds him of someone, he realizes, but his brain fails to supply an image of who that person might be.

She is much closer now.

John is still only able to catch glimpses of her entire body when the she sways to the side where she isn't flanked by bodies. She is wearing a tight black shirt that hugs her close. John can tell she is wearing nothing underneath. His eyes move lower to her black shorts that are offset with a series of black leather harnesses around her thighs to her combat boots that make her look like Lara Croft. She is gorgeous. She has mahogany brown skin that draws John in and makes him want to touch her, to feel her skin against his, to taste her. When she sees him looking she smirks and her face is something John can only describe as elfish or feline. She has wide large eyes that tick up slightly at the ends, her winged eyeliner only adding to the effect. Her curly hair bounces with every move she makes and for some reason it makes John smile. She reminds him of Sherlock.

Her confident steps, her calculating almond shaped eyes, high cheek bones, curly hair, and Cupid’s bow lips all scream _Sherlock_.

John is so engrossed in her that he barely realizes that Greg’s arm has retracted slightly. She looks away from John to follow Greg’s arm. She looks between them again, and when she is finds what she is looking for, she takes the final steps towards John.

Her dark brown eyes pierce through John's as she steps between his spread legs. She is exactly his type, probably the only real prerequisite he has when it comes to his attractions. She has this confident, unpredictable, dominant, and dangerous air about her that is all John ever wants. He wants the danger and excitement. He wants the challenge.

“I’m Alexane” She says, as John places his drink down to balance himself to kiss her cheeks in greeting. He finds himself lingering slightly there, as he takes in her vanilla and honey smell that is interestingly mixed with men’s cologne.

“John” he says as he pulls back.

She looks at Greg then, who wraps his hand around the back of her neck, “Greg” he smirks and then he pulls her in and places matching kisses on her cheeks. He moves back much quicker than John did, probably not as enamored by her.

“Do you dance, John?” She smiles and John’s eyes follow the lines around her mouth. They lead to her deep dimples that make her look interestingly villainous. John doesn't answer though, he rolls up his shirt sleeves and steps off the stool. He takes her hand and they make their way to the dance floor.

Not many know that John absolutely loves dancing and that he is quite good at it as well. He loves to let the music take over, to lose himself in the music and when he gets to the dance floor, he can feel himself do just that. Alexane’s body is close but not really touching him. With eyes closed he can feel the brush of her hair against his face and chest.

They continue to dance like this for a while. Their bodies feeling each other out. John feels the tension as they unconsciously move closer, occasionally rubbing against each other. Hands reaching out to steady the other when someone bumps into them and throws them off rhythm. It happens again and again until the distance is broken with her hand sliding down his arm to touch his waist.

He reaches out as well, dragging her closer to him. He opens his eyes then, his forehead pressed against hers as they slow down, their bodies moving more in sync.

From where he is standing he can feel the heat of eyes on them and it only spurs him on as he buries his hands in her hair to press their foreheads even closer, meeting her eyes.

Her small hands grip his waist to pull him in and place her thigh between his. They rub against each other like this in a slow sensual dirty grind that would have him blushing in any other setting. This close, there is no way to hide his growing erection in his trousers as he grinds against her thigh, at the feel of her body as he revels in the heat on his thigh from her center.

Alexane leans in, placing a kiss at the side of his mouth as she moves towards his ear. John assumes she wants to tell him something so he leans in closer, but is met with lips mouthing the shell of his ear. From where they are dancing John can see Greg looking straight at them.

John can see Greg’s eyes on them. John’s head is slightly ducked and covered by Alexane’s curls so Greg can’t tell that John is watching him. He can’t tell that John can see Greg’s eyes following the movements of their hips. It is almost like a secret, a heady way to be --both voyeuristic and exhibitionistic.

Alexane turns and leans back, pressing her bum right against his dick.

The music changes from low to fast and slow again but Alexane and John maintain the slow erotic pace of their movements. John leans down, wanting to bury his flushed face in her as much of her as possible.  As though aware of his intentions she ducks her head forward to expose her neck to him. They are moving so well together, no words, no planning, just feeling and enjoying the eroticism of what they are doing together. He can smell her more strongly now, a sheen of sweat highlighting her vanilla aroma. Sherlock always smelled like vanilla and mint. He revels in their similarities as he leans lower to rub his nose along her exposed neck.

John rolls his hips and pulls her even closer with the hand pressing on her lower tummy. They move together once more. John’s stomach flutters again from the feeling of being watched.  Someone, other than Greg, is watching them and it is getting harder to ignore. John opens his eyes ready to scan the room and is met with sharp icy blue eyes. His stomach flips and his cock twitches in his trousers. He fucking loves being watched.

The blue eyes belong to a tall, heavily muscled, curly haired man. He is dressed in a black button down and matching trousers that make his pale skin stand out tantalizingly.

From his previous experience he knows that it almost a kink of his to have men, attractive men, watch him express his sexuality. It never fails to make him feel desired and erotic.  The eyes are slightly squinted as they follow his hands that are now roaming the span on Alexane’s explored stomach. He runs his other hand up her arm and raises her head. He knows the man a few feet away cannot see that John is watching him either. Emboldened by the idea of two other men getting off on his and Alexane’s movements, John lets go even more, pushing the boundaries even further.

“Let me” he whispers and even though he is sure she doesn't hear him, her fingers follow his under her shirt to grasp his hand his guide it higher up her sternum and to her left breast. John feels alight at the fucking vulgar way he is publicly touching her like this and is beyond aroused at naughtiness of being seen palming her tit.

His eyes are still on the man from across the room as he flexes fingers to show exactly what he is doing and then squeezes her breast tightly. The man, still unaware that John can see him, zeros in on the hand on Alexane’s breast.  
Dying to see more of his reaction, John lifts his head higher and moves the curly hair that was shielding his face, aside. John openly appraises the blue eyed man now. His eyes follow the lines of the man's body with the knowledge that now; he can be seen, as well.

They make eye contact.

He looks at John as John looks at him.

John thinks that now that ‘blue eyes’ has been caught blatantly staring, he might feel embarrassed and avert his gaze. However, he merely smirks and sways a little.

John follows the movement down his strong shoulders, powerful chest and down to his hips. John realizes then that he has been moving with them this entire time. His hips moving in small tight circles that match the pace John has set.

The way he is moving is really doing it for John and finds himself groping Alexane further. He smirks at the large man who in turn raised his bottle of beer at John.

Alexane turns around again, facing him and pressing her lips to his ear.

The idea that this man and Greg are watching him with Alexane encourages him to lose his inhibitions and allow Alexane’s hands to drift down to his arse.

She speaks then.

“Do you see him?”

Assuming that she is talking about the man in head to toe black, John nods.

“He is my husband, Sam” Her words take a second to register, but when they do, John steps back a little, realizing he might have misinterpreted the man’s heated gaze for arousal and interest. He is about to apologize when Alexane’s hands return to his hips.

"It's okay. He likes it." She reassures and pulls him closer again, resuming their position. Interestingly, John’s hard on didn't waver the entire time.

Alexane runs her hands up and down his back, squeezing his arse again. John groans and mimics her movement, his eyes on Sam. Sam smirks as his eyes follow John’s hands. They stay like that for a few songs, Alexane seductively running her hands over John’s body, while John basically gets eye fucked by this other man.

Alexane turns her head for a second to make eye contact with Sam and it seems they have a short silent conversation because Sam starts to walk towards them until his chest is pressed against Alexane’s back.

John tries to move his hands from her arse when Sam starts to move with them, his hips and crotch constantly rubbing against the back of John’s hands but Sam holds his wrist to keep him from moving.

Over Alexane’s head, Sam leans down and wraps his fingers around the back of John’s neck like Greg had done to Alexane. “I’m Sam” he says as he pulls back to look at John before leaning in again. His voice is a timbered bass that sends vibrations through John’s body. “What is your name, beautiful?”

At that John laughs, he laughs because no one has ever called him beautiful and he never really thought that specific word was one that would be used to describe him.

“John”

John can feel Alexane moving closer as he speaks to Sam, her mouth latching onto his neck, where she leaves hot wet stripes with her tongue.

Sam’s hand moves up slightly into the hair at the nape of John’s neck. “So what are the rules, John? Am I allowed to touch you?” His warm breath tickling John’s neck, his lips so close they rub against his ear like Alexane’s had done earlier. John nods, his eyes drifting shut at the feeling of Sam’s large fingers lightly tugging at his hair. The feeling of the contrasting sized hands reminding him of his most recent fantasy.

“Does he always have to be there?” Again it takes a moment to register. John’s alcohol addled mind, and the perfectly synchronized movement of Alexane’s hands untucking his shirt as Sam’s hand slips inside the back of his trousers and boxers to squeeze his bare arse distract him from realizing exactly what Sam had said for a moment.

“Who?” he asks surprised that Sam can even hear him over the music because his voice has gone all breathy.

The hand in John’s hair tightens as Sam turns John’s face towards Greg. “Him”. He clarifies, his other hand lightly caressing the crack of John’s arse. Fuck.

John opens his eyes and is met with Greg’s.  
He smirks but Greg doesn't return it. His glare makes John feel an equal amount of embarrassment and arousal.

“You are his, are you not?”

A sober John would be vehemently denying being Greg’s.

A sober John would awkwardly laugh it off and question what that statement even means.

John a couple of years ago would have denied the thrill that those words brought to him until he himself believed they meant nothing.

However, this is not a sober John and that was then.

So John decides to go with it, his eyes on Greg’s as he pulls Sam to move behind him. He feels his body resuming the slow grind, now that he is sandwiched between Alexane’s and Sam’s bodies.

He reaches back to draw Sam’s ear closer to his mouth and he lies. “Yes, but he lets me do what I want.”

Greg’s eyes move away from John’s then, looking left of him at Sam and then back at John. Alexane runs her hands inside his shirt and across his toned chest. They've been moving like this for what feels like hours. John’s neck is being peppered with kisses from the front as Sam grinds his hard prick into John’s lower back and arse.

John leans back against the strong body behind him. He revels in a feeling of being small and taken care of, a feeling he doesn't get from being with a lot of women much smaller and more submissive than he. 

He can smell the pine scented cologne that he'd spotted on Alexane earlier. The idea that they had been dancing, maybe even fucking before they chose John turns him on even more. 

"This your first time with a couple?" Sam asks as he takes John's earlobe between his teeth. "You enjoy being the object of everyone's desire, don't you? I could tell from the way you were dancing, the way you kept looking to meet the eyes of those watching you" They all seem like rhetorical questions meant to excite John and Sam further but he nods in response to all of them. 

"What do you like, John?" Sam asks again, his hand drifting to John's nape and fisting the hair there. With his grip he pushes John's head forward and into Alexane's chest, who then grasps him the ears and presses he clothed breast to his mouth. 

He opens his mouth immediately and sucks at her breast, biting and pulling at her nipple as he goes. He groans as Sam pulls him back by his hair. "Huh? Do you like that I made you do that?" This question like the one about him being Greg's makes him feel odd but he can not deny that it makes his stomach and cock twitch. 

"Or would you rather you made me do what you wanted?" Alexane pipes up then reminding John that Sam is the more talkative of the two. He nods, curling his fingers back in her hair and pulling her lips down to his neck near his scar, where he is most sensitive. 

“I really want to fuck you, John. Let me. Come home with us”, Sam whispers as he places a kiss at the edge of John’s mouth, his hand moving to brazenly cup John’s erection so that both Alexane and John’s centers are rubbing against his large hand with every move.

In all of John’s experiences, he has never been a part of a threesome. Most of his lovers being quite conservative or decisively monogamous in all ways, John never had the chance to do it. Let alone with a man strong enough to fuck him like he’d always fantasized about and a woman that is the perfect balance between seductive and predatory.

John looks to Greg, wanting to feel his eyes on them again, wanting to feel desired from all possible directions.  

He finds Greg’s attention is elsewhere and feels a pang of disappointment. Greg is talking to an androgynous person that, from where they stand slightly obscured by Greg’s body, John can’t tell if they are a man or a woman.

Greg is laughing with and touching this person. _WHAT?_

John disentangles himself from the couple and starts to move towards Greg. 

“John!?”

John doesn't even realize he has stopped dancing until now. Alexane and Sam have stopped as well.

Sam draws John back in. His arms are wrapping around John’s waist to encourage John to lean against him again as Alexane runs her fingers through his hair soothingly.

“Is that not a part of the rules?” She asks and without thinking about it, John shake his head, ‘no’. He then clarifies “I mean, it is.  It is just that it’s-”

“Hard?” Sam supplies and John nods.

They have moved slightly forward and from where they are standing, John can see Greg’s arm wrapped around the person’s waist as they sway to the slow beat. They are dancing.

John is taken aback, a feeling of possessiveness rising inside him.

_Is this person even Greg’s type?_

They are laughing and exchanging familiar touches that even he doesn't share with Greg.

_How can this person have been a part of Greg’s life and John not know a thing about it?_

John starts to move again when he sees Greg’s fingers skim their lower back. He feels almost betrayed at the sight, and when they glance down almost shyly, Greg’s fingers slide up to grasp their chin to tilt their face upwards.  _WHAT THE FUCK!_  

_Seriously! Are they even Greg’s type?_

_His ex was so feminine and explicitly female! Since when- If Greg was into more than just women, why not tell John?_

_Sherlock had basically deduced all of Greg's life, why not mention that?!_

Sam grabs John’s arm again as he slips something in John’s trousers and then lets go of him. “You have our numbers. Give us a ring once you've ironed things out”

Sam and Alexane both kiss John on the cheek once but John barely registers it. He is anxious and a little jealous as he tucks his shirt in and makes his way towards Greg.   
  
He is not sure what he is going to say when he gets there. He is not sure he wants to say anything at all, but he knows he can’t not be there.


	5. I miss you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't know what he is going to do. He just knows that he needs to be where Greg is right now. Experience shows that whenever Greg has a few drinks, he becomes flirty and there is no way John is going to let someone take advantage of Greg in this state. When he reaches Greg, he stops for a second wondering for the first time what Greg might think of his actions. Will he be thankful? Will be upset that John intercepted a change for him to pull? Will he be indifferent?

With a sense of possessive energy John strides across the dance floor and towards Greg.

He doesn't know what he is going to do. He just knows that he needs to be where Greg is right now. Experience shows that whenever Greg has a few drinks, he becomes flirty and there is no way John is going to let someone take advantage of Greg in this state. When he reaches Greg, he stops for a second wondering for the first time what Greg might think of his actions. Will he be thankful? Will he be upset that John intercepted a change for him to pull? Will he be indifferent?

With all these ideas running through his head, John does not expect to be laughed at.

His eyes travel up and then down the brunette’s lithe body. They make eye contact with John, smirk and then gesture for Greg to look behind him. Smirking, Greg turns and together, they laugh at John. Is he being odd? Is this even the Greg he knew? Maybe he is just a confused man with an even more confusing sexuality that is in fact laughable.

He is about to retreat when Greg calls his name.

“John!” Greg is smiling still; his cheeks are pink from the heat in the room and the alcohol. John glances down to find that Greg still has his arm around this person regardless of the fact that they have stopped dancing.

Maybe Greg wanted this all along.

“John, come closer, I can’t bloody well yell across the bar to you”

John steps closer with his eyes flickering between Greg and this other person.

“John” Greg says as he plants a heavy hand on John’s shoulder. “This is Jamie”

Jamie side steps Greg slightly, entering John’s personal space as they thrust their palm towards John. John takes this opportunity to really look at them. He is still unable to tell what gender they are. They are beautiful though. Long wavy black hair covers the right side their face slightly, only revealing the splattering of moles on their left side. Jaime was devastatingly beautiful in a way that John knows he could never be. They have a mix of soft and hard features that make John aware of how...ordinary he actually is in comparison. He was a couple of years too old for a start. He has war wounds. He has marks and scratches. He sometimes walked with a limp. Jamie looks like they have never seen any hardship in their life.

John wants to retreat. He wants to step back and just walk away. He smiles though, reaches forward to takes their hand.  

“Hi” Is all he can manage. Jamie's grasp is hard and challenging. It stays like that until Greg lightly touches their wrist. John watches the interaction wondering how long they’d actually been talking in order to form a silent understanding, or maybe if this in fact is not Jaime and Greg’s first encounter.

He pushes all those thoughts aside when his hand is no longer occupied by the soft large palm and fingers.

Jaime steps closer to John, which leaves them pressing their body between Greg’s thighs and across his body. “So, John, how do you know Gregory?”

John looks between them again and considers saying fuck it and going back to Alexane and Sam for the second time. At least they don't leave him feeling so uncertain and inadequate. However, the look on Greg’s face makes him stay. He looks elated.

“I know him through work. We were work mates and now we are just mates” John smiles at end of that. He is proud of their relationship. He is happy to have Greg as a close friend and confidant. “How do you know Greg?” He tries to hide his extreme curiosity. 

“Gregory and I are also transitioning from an occasional interaction sort of relationship to a much more involved one. We too are mates” Jamie adds with a smile, their deep voice resonating with humor and promise that makes John feels left out.

Greg laughs at what seems to be inside joke and responds with “Sort of, we are sort of mates”

John doesn't laugh along. There is a long pause before Jamie leans away and turn to Greg “Well Gregory, I see the time has come for me to excuse myself.”

“Fair enough” Greg leans forward and places a kiss on Jamie’s cheek right next to corner of their full lips. John chalks the almost kiss up to a drunken slip. “Be good, Jamie” Greg adds, and Jamie flushes as they bite their lip and step back and away from Greg and John. They turn and start to walk away, only to turn around again and wave goodbye to John. 

 

John half heatedly waves back.

“I thought you were having fun with the two over there? Not going home with them?” John glances back at the couple. They are still dancing passionately. He wants them, he really does, but for some reason he would rather stay here with Greg. He would rather go home with Greg.

“No, I am heading back home with you, mate”

Greg nods and wraps his arm playfully around John’s shoulder on their way out. They decide the take the tube home again and John hopes it is just as crowded as it had been earlier.

~*~  
The whole way to the tube John is trying to figure out how to ask about Jamie. It isn't that he must know everything about Greg’s life, it is just that Greg knows some really important things that John is trying to work through now and so it would only be fair if he knew some of Greg’s.

They find tube rather empty. John tries to hide his disappointment. They have been sitting right next to each other on the tube for only a few minutes when John decides to ask about Greg and Jamie.

“So, Jamie” He starts as he turns to face Greg, whose eyes are closed with his head tilted back.

“What about Jamie?” Greg smiles, popping one eye open to glance at John. For some reason John loves the way that looks.

“Jamie is a...woman?” He feels silly asking. He doesn't want to know in order to pry into Jamie’s life; he wants to know so he can, for once, categorize Greg’s interests. So he can at least try to figure out if Greg was coming onto him all those times before.

Greg looks at John for a few seconds with that amused smile still on his face. “Does it matter?”

“Well...I...yes if you are straight? I mean that is assuming you two were together or had a thin-”

“Jamie is like Sherlock” Greg states, as if just saying it is enough, as if that alone should be all the explanation John needs. John is about to ask Greg to clarify because as far he knows, aside from the posh background and arresting good looks there are no other similarities between Sherlock and Jamie, when Greg starts to speak again.

“He kissed me once, you know.”

“Jamie?” John reluctantly asks, watching Greg’s face carefully.

“Sherlock”

“What, when did that happen?” John turns completely to face Greg unsure of how he feels.

“About 11 years ago, mate. Don’t worry.” Greg ruffles John’s hair and turns to face him as well.

“Did...did you kiss him back? Were you two toget-”? John’s questions are interrupted again by Greg slowly shaking his head.

“I was married back then. He was high as kite and was trying to get me to let him in on cases” Greg shrugs, he doesn't sound upset about it at all.

 _Did you want him? Do you want him?_ John wants to ask but finds that he truly is not prepared for the answer he might get, so he bites his tongue, nodding instead to show his understanding.

Hours after they have gotten home, John sends a text to Sherlock.

3: 00 AM  
 _I miss you ~ JW_

3: 14 AM  
As I do you. However, it is rather late, would you not agree? ~ S. Holmes

3: 14 AM  
 _I went out with Greg.  He is quite a lot of fun.~ JW_

John is not sure why he says that. He thinks it is because of the new information he found out from Greg about Sherlock. He thinks maybe it is because he wants to shock Sherlock like he’d been shocked.

3: 16 AM  
A good night I gather? ~ S. Holmes

3: 16 AM  
 _Quite. ~ JW_

He lays there in his bed. This was hardly the reaction he was hoping for.

3: 19 AM  
 _I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. ~ JW_

3: 20 AM  
John ~ S. Holmes

John can almost hear Sherlock’s deep voice warning him to not say anything while intoxicated. He was always resistant to hearing what John had to say whenever John had had a few drinks. John thinks that maybe it has to do with the kiss between Sherlock and Greg. He decides to take the warning and leave his frustrations for tomorrow. He sends a quick goodnight text and reaches down into his boxer briefs to deal with the erection he didn't even know he was sporting until now. As much as he will later deny it even to himself, he thinks of Sherlock and Greg the entire time until he comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: The image of Jamie in this fic is model Miles Mcmillan.


	6. Serait-ce possible alors ?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You ask because you are jealous from our previous encounters, yes? You have nothing to be jealous about, John. Gregory and I-” he stops. His eyes squinting for what John assumes a moment to find the right words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor Trevor is Idris Elba.  
> Duh.

Going to see Sherlock, reliable Sherlock, was the one thing John was counting to on to remain a constant. Since moving in with Greg, John has learned and found out things that are frankly making him feel like he was asleep for the entirety of the last four years.

Greg may or may not also be interested in men.

Greg speaks French quite eloquently.

Sherlock kissed Greg at one point.

Aside from his own life that he feels like he will never get a firm grip on, the people around him continue to surprise him.

“Hey mate” Greg walks by him in his dark blue sweat pants and t-shirt. His hair is a mess and his voice is still raspy with sleep. He slowly moves towards the kitchen counter, opening and closing the cupboards.

“Good morning” John smiles. Greg looks like a fucking mess.

“Fuck off with that smile, John. You don’t look that spiffy either. I told you we had to stop drinking like that and yet, here we are”

“And yet here we are indeed” John’s smile widens. He really does enjoy Greg’s easy company. Greg makes breakfast as John occasionally he checks the time, checks his messages, and then the missed calls.

The movement around the kitchen comes to a stop and John looks up at Greg. Greg’s eyes move from John’s phone to his face and then back down.

“Expecting a call?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Mmmhm, not exactly but I am going to see Sherlock in a few, keeping track of the time”

“The time, huh” Greg’s face splits with a wide grin and he waggles his eyebrows. “Are you nervous? Sherlock looks and seems quite a bit different from when you last saw him, mate. Are you ready?” Greg’s concern touches and reminds his that before this ‘does Greg want me’ bullshit, Greg was a great friend to talk to.

“I think I am. I am not going to say it won’t be...interesting. I mean we were doing whatever we were doing up until Mary and I got married so…” John lets his voice drift off, not knowing where to take that sentence. He is hoping Greg can understand. He wonders for a moment if this is how his friendships will always end up or if it just with Sherlock and now maybe Greg.

“Actually Greg, I wanted to talk to you about-” John starts but is interrupted by the ring of Greg’s phone.

“Hold on, this is the yard.” Greg glanced at John as he picks up the phone and walks to his bedroom.

John thinks about what he wanted to tell Greg. He thinks about how he wanted to ask Greg. How he wanted to just come out and ask him what the fuck is going on. However, the call to Greg, and a text from Sherlock take his mind off of it for the moment.

~*~

 

In the taxi, John looks down at what he is wearing. He isn’t nervous about seeing Sherlock per se. He is merely anxious to see if they still get along like they always did. He wants to see if that chemistry is still there now that they don’t have the detective crime solving thing in common.

He reaches the cafe a lot quicker than he thought he would and it does not take him long to spot Sherlock in the little cafe.

He is sitting outside. He always seems to stand out in the sea of other people around him. His skin is glowing from the sunny London day. John pays the cabbie and steps out and towards where Sherlock is sitting.

“John” Sherlock stands as John approaches the small table, and John chooses to avert his gaze from Sherlock. That voice, that fucking voice reminds him of their intimate moments and it makes his stomach feel aflutter. He is a little aroused from this little encounter if he is completely honest and it is a true test to how much time he has spent away from Sherlock if he thinks looking away will impede Sherlock from seeing his arousal.

“Sherlock” he greets back, pulling the chair back and sitting down.

He takes the moment to look at Sherlock.

He is wearing a white button down and what John guesses are dark blue trousers. It is not an outfit John remembers seeing on Sherlock in all their time living together. He wonders why not. Sherlock looks fucking regal.

John’s eyes travel higher, bouncing around Sherlock’s body and catching little things as he goes.

Sherlock has longer hair now. It is swept up into a curly and messy bun with a few curls loose here and there.

His eyes sharp and calculating as always. They are probably categorizing John’s reactions as they happen. John could never really hide anything from Sherlock.

“How are you, John?-“

“You kissed Greg”

They speak at the same time and John is almost entertained by that.

Sherlock doesn't bother faking amusement. John knows he never found those instances amusing.

John chooses to clarify when Sherlock doesn't speak.

“Greg said you kissed him once. He said it was a long time ago. He also said you might not remember….but”

“I remember” Sherlock adds. His mouth pitches forward into a small pout as he brings his hands to his chin with steepled fingers.

“You ask because you are jealous from our previous encounters, yes? You have nothing to be jealous about, John. Gregory and I-” he stops. His eyes squinting for what John assumes a moment to find the right words.

The way he say ‘Gregory’ though reminds John of Jamie. Since when does Sherlock even bother remembering Greg’s first name anyway? When John  thinks about it, Sherlock’s dark curls also remind him of Jamie.

“Gregory was married at the time and I was-”

“High?” John offers leaning forward into Sherlock’s space with hopes of having his presence be comforting. Addiction and Sherlock were the hardest and most destructive of friends.

“That, yes, but also very filled with the need to explore.”

Sherlock takes a sip of his tea that John can tell is different from how he’d always had it before.

“I thought you weren't sexual or didn't want- that, or anything.”

Sherlock leans forward as well. His eyes are gleaming as he takes one from sip and sets the cup down. His lips curve into a small smile as he says. “This is feeling rather like an interview, John. How was the trip? Mary? Greg?”

Something about Sherlock’s behavior is rubbing John the wrong way. He is calm? He is calm, yes, and loose. Although his body is strung tight, it gives way and bends and even sways a little in a way that is completely foreign to John.

Is Sherlock putting on an act?

“Mary is well. We are no longer together, kind of, but I know you already know that. The trip was alright but as you also know, it was cut short but quite a bit. I had to come home and figure some shit out.” He states as Sherlock flags down the waiter and point to John.

“How does it feel to be back?”

“It feels good, it is really challenging and things I thought I knew are a little different but I think I am coming to find that it just something that will always happen.”

“Hi, what can I get you, sir?” the waiter addresses John. John didn't even notice his approach.

“Can I get a tea with some milk, please? Also, if you could include some biscuits, that would be brilliant” John takes a moment and glances at Sherlock and then to his tea. “Another of what he is having, please.” He adds.

Their conversation’s content moves between Sherlock and John’s lives pretty seamlessly after that.

John appreciates that Sherlock lets John order for him. He appreciates that Sherlock, whether or not needed it, drinks the second cup of tea with no complaint.

He hopes that Sherlock understands that this action, as simple as it seems, sets them up as old Sherlock and John. The Sherlock that only eats at the explicit request of John. The John that needs someone to take care of.

“Your hair is much longer” John finally points out between lulls in the conversation.

Sherlock merely smiles and nods.

“I never thought I would see it, you know. You were so fucking uptight about consistency. Greg warned about this change, you know?” John chuckles and Sherlock laughs.

Sherlock laughs and although it is not as much of an oddity to see Sherlock laugh, John still stares at him with surprise in his eyes.

Sherlock’s tongue is pierced.

“Yes, John. Also, indeed it is. To be fair though, it has been pierced longer than it has not. Greg knows.” Sherlock lips quirk into a flirty smirk and John can only shake his head.

Sherlock has indeed changed. However, Sherlock is looking at him in that way that he remembers as amusement and interest. He has been reaching out and actually touching John. He knows that John likes it. He knows that when John looks at his mouth, he is thinking about kissing him. John knows that when he too touches Sherlock, Sherlock realizes that his touches mean that he misses Sherlock, that he misses their connection. They mean that he is happy to be here.

“I have a partner. I am sure Greg told you.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Why would Sherlock say that now? Why even flirt with him like he had been. Had he even been flirting, not that John can even tell anymore. Case and point a certain Gregory Lestrade.

When the words finally properly sink in, John asks Sherlock to repeat himself.

“I will not, you heard what I said” His petulancy reminding John of the Sherlock he used to know. John does not really know how to feel about any what Sherlock has just said. He feels a little betrayed in a way he is not sure he is allowed to process. He feels possessive of Sherlock’s sexuality. He had thought he was the only one that Sherlock felt and would ever feel that way about. That knowledge somehow made him feel special. He was the one the softened Sherlock’s edges and took care of him. He is the one Sherlock loved and cared about.

He was the one.

But now to find that there was one before him and one after him, made him feel like just any other man.

“Greg has not told me, no. Who is it?” He fingers the watch Sherlock gave him as he questions Sherlock.

“Victor Trevor”

The name is familiar. He remembers the night they got drunk for his bachelor party pub crawl. Sherlock had told him of this bloke that he had almost been with. Victor Trevor.

Sherlock had said he was everything Sherlock wished he himself was and that Sherlock was the way he was because of Victor.

At the time John had the thought it was a bad thing. He had thought that this Victor was the reason Sherlock was choosing logic over emotion at all turns, that he was the thing that stunted Sherlock’s growth when he finally left the Holmes estate. He thought that this bloke, Victor Trevor, was the reason Sherlock started doing drugs. Now he is not so sure.

“I remember you telling me about him”

Sherlock’s phone beeps and he glance down as he responds.

“Indeed. Would like to meet him?”

John feels a little ambushed by the question but nods in agreement regardless.

“There are experiments at home that I need to attend to so he will be passing by from his brunch meeting.”

John is a little confused at what Sherlock’s experiments have to do with Victor’s brunch and trying to figure it out, when Sherlock rolls his eyes with a small smile and clarifies.

“We have been talking for three hours, John. And from my understanding, you have to head back to Barts in an hour. “

“Oh, right. Yes” John didn't realize how much time had passed. He feels so slow to keep up. All this time away from Sherlock has trained him out of thinking ahead of everything. With no one to challenge him like Sherlock does, John is starting to realize that his potential is greatly stunted.

A black Benz pulls up and parks a ways behind Sherlock. John is not even sure why he even notices it. He is aware of his surroundings, yes, but there were a lot of cars in last a couple of hours that he did not pay attention to.

A tall man, much taller than John, walks out dressed in a three piece suit, taking off his tailored jacket as he goes.

His eyes are on John. Just as John’s eyes are on him.

This is Victor, John realizes.

He struts towards their table; his head cocked to the side and eyes hawk-like in way that John thought was a Sherlock thing only.

His every movement is controlled and powerful.

His hair is cropped short in line with his trimmed beard. He is very masculine and very handsome.

He steps closer and when he reaches Sherlock, who has glanced down at his phone for a moment, he presses himself against the back of Sherlock’s chair his large hand moving to smooth the short curls out of Sherlock’s face as he bends to kiss the top of Sherlock’s head.

The entire time, Sherlock never flinches away.

He never shows distaste or disapproval of the action. He does not behave as though he is above Victor’s touch and affections. He does not technically respond to them either.

“John, this is Victor. Victor, John.” Sherlock introduces them as Victor moves sit next to John and opposite Sherlock.

John takes a deep breath and smiles, reaching his hand out for Victor to shake. The smile entirely fake, he knows it, Sherlock knows it, and when he looks up at Victor and sees his amused grin, he know that even Victor knows.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, John. Sherlock has spoken greatly of you.” He grasps John’s hand. His voice is deep, deeper than Sherlock’s, which is something John didn't think was possible. Their accents are similar, their inflections matching in the soothing stiffness of how they articulate themselves.

“Unfortunately, I have heard very little about you, but what I have heard has placed you in very much a person of influence in Sherlock’s life” John glances at Sherlock as he says this. They hadn't talked about Sherlock’s talks of his past from that night. John wants to see what Sherlock will do.

Sherlock stiffens just for a second, his eyes cutting to John and then to Victor.

“I am surprised I even got a second of his words” Victor’s grin widens, “Sherlock was notoriously secretive about me, lest people find out who influenced his style.”

They laugh at that. John joins in, even though he feels he is missing most of the joke.

John watches Sherlock and Victor interact. He notices how half of their conversations are lost on him because as they seem to reach the height of the talk, they drift into stares, eyebrow raises and lip quirks as communication. John thinks he even seen Sherlock blush, but he is not sure.

When there is a lull in the talks, Victor pulls out an electronic cigarette and takes a couple of puffs. He leans away turning his back to both Sherlock and John as he takes one more long drag, blows it out and puts the cigarette away. John takes this opportunity to really look at Victor and is perturbed at how hard it is to read him.  All he is able to tell is that he is quitting smoking, he has an ear piercing, and went to Cambridge with Sherlock.

“Excuse me. John, Sherlock mentioned you are soon returning to Bartholomew's, would you like a ride to there? I expect you are returning today.”

“Not at all, but thank you” John responds immediately because he knows if he even tries to think about why he would turn down the offer, both Sherlock and Victor would know.

They eventually decide to leave. John insists on paying the bill because somehow Victor paying for something he was not a part of feel odd.

When he is done paying, grab their coats and stand.

John watches as Sherlock and Victor both shrug on their coats and flip the collar upwards at the same time. It is odd seeing someone behave like Sherlock. It odd realizing that anyone could even be in sync with Sherlock.

There is something to be said about that.

They part ways with a hugs between John and Sherlock and a whispered ‘call me’.  


	7. The needed distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John needs to distract himself from Sherlock's new relationship status.  
> He texts Sam for some much needed company.  
> His relief though, only comes from Greg.

John isn't upset. He isn't frustrated that Sherlock had changed and become this...person that was relaxed and intimate and physical. He is not upset, so when he reaches for his phone minutes after seeing Sherlock and his eloquent, charming, brilliant boyfriend Victor, it isn't because he is upset.

2:00 PM  
 _I want to see you. ~JW_

2:00 PM  
Just me? ~ S

2:01 PM  
 _I don’t mind. I want to see you. Are you busy? ~ JW_

2:04 PM  
I am at work now, but I get off at 7. Do you want to go out, let off some steam, you seem a little tightly strung. ~ S

2:10 PM  
 _Yes, please. ~ JW_

~*~

For the rest of the day, John is on edge. He sees about six patients that all take forever to say that they think they ‘may have a funny rash’ here or there. John knows he is short with them, snapping at them for taking forever to get to the point because to be honest, he really does not want to be there at the moment. Time drags on slowly, with a series of pitiful looks from Sarah and his fellow doctors. They all presume his sour attitude is from his separation from Mary, and to some degree he supposes it is. He goes with it. He listens when they tap him on the shoulder, hug him, and smile knowing at him with kind words of ‘it gets much better’.

He feels so consumed with his thoughts that he almost misses it when he gets a text from Sam.

6:00 PM  
I’ll be running a little late. Alexane is going out for drinks though, she can pick you up in a few and I’ll see you at the bar then home. Does that work? ~ S

6:03  
 _Yes. ~ JW_

6:04  
Brilliant. 7654 912348   
Call her when you are ready. ~S 

John closes the text and rings Alexane immediately. They don’t talk for long but soon enough she is picking him up in a mini cooper. He jogs lightly towards her, places a lingering kiss on both of her cheeks as he takes her a smell. She smells just like she did the night they met, a sweet mix of vanilla, honey, and men’s cologne.

They drive the bar is silent. Alexane mentions offhandedly how much John looks like he needs a drink but that is all. The air between them although is still filled with sexual tension, is a little different. It feels like a promise of a good friendship. A sexualized heady friendship, but a friendship none the less.

She parks the car and they make their way to the bar. It is a classy high end bar that John would not go in willingly for the fear of seeing a lot of stuck up people that are not willing to actually loosen up. They make their way into the bar and take a seat at the booth. John orders two shots of tequila to start and pint. Although he doesn't intend to over drink, he is in desperate need of something to loosen him up.

“So what has you so wound up, John?” Alexane smiles kindly as she reaches over the table to rub John’s forearm. Her nails scraping his arm hairs in a way that is intended to be soothing, but only excites John.

“An old friend of mine is- you know it actually doesn't matter. I was wondering how you do it. Sam and yourself. How you can fuck other people together. How does that work?”

Alexane studies him before she speaks. “Well, Sam and I have been together for a long time and I think, we think, we deserve to explore and enjoy our sexualities. Have you ever been with more than one person?”

John shakes his head and takes the shot as soon as the waiter sets it down.

“Well, it can be complex. I think you would need to be really solid in your own relationship first. What does your man think?”

_Sherlock?_

John was so used to people assuming and almost insisting that he and Sherlock were together that he it takes a moment for it to register that she means Greg.

“He doesn't say very much.”

“A quiet one, eh?” John nods and glances at her after his second shot.

They drink and talk about John’s work, Alexane’s, and even Sam’s. They are so taken with the conversation that when a large hand lands on the back of John’s neck, he tenses as he readies himself for a fight.

“Hello there” It is Sam. He bends at the waist to kiss John’s cheek and then Alexane’s. He sits next to John.

“Hi” John mummers. Under the table John places his hand on Sam’s thigh.

He is tipsy. No drunk. No somewhere in between the two. He feels good and loose and sexy. He leans closer to Sam.

“Are you okay?” He asks John, placing his arm around the back of the seat, right behind John’s head.

“Of course. I am good.” John runs his fingers against the seam of Sam’s pants. He wants this. He can see Sam looking at Alexane. She is looking back at him and smirking.

His fingers slide a little higher following the seam. Sam’s breathing is even, his eyes almost unblinking, but his cock, his cock is getting hard from the stimulation.

“Maybe we should head home, yes?” Alexane questions, her eyes flickering from Sam to John and then back to Sam again.

John presses himself closer to Sam. He wants to go home with them. He wants to press against Sam or Alexane or both of them until he forgets about Sherlock and Victor. Until his memory of Greg and Jamie is gone from his head.

“I want to go home with you”

~*~ 

“I want you to fuck me” John whispers. He is sitting astride Sam’s hips with his face nuzzled against Sam’s neck. Sam’s arm is wrapped around his back, holding him steady. “I promise I am not too drunk.”

He can hear his own neediness. He can hear the way his words are slurred from both arousal and alcohol. He can understand where Sam’s hesitation is coming from, he just doesn't want it to be there.

“Sam. I want you to fuck me, please” He wraps his arms tighter around Sam’s neck and uses the leverage to grind against Sam’s hard prick.

Sam turns his head slightly to face his wife. She is sitting right next to them, holding Sam’s other hand. She shakes her head at Sam when she thinks John can’t see her.

“Let me suck you then, just let me...I want to feel wanted” He sounds desperate. He knows this. But what the fuck is he meant to sound like right now. First, shit hits the fan with Mary, then whatever that was with Greg, and then Sherlock being...unlike Sherlock with his _partner_.

John wants a man’s attention right now, if he is honest.

“What about your man? He can give you that” Sam groans, lowering the hand against John’s back, sliding it into the back of John's trousers. He kneads Johns right cheek for moment and then uses that hand to spread his cheeks, using his middle finger to circle John’s hole.

“Yes. Finger me. Please” John groans as he tilts his hips towards the hand.

“Jesus. Are you always this sensitive ?”

John knows Sam wants to use to word desperate or needy. He knows it, so he just nods in response.

“I am sure your man knows that. I am sure he fucks you whenever you need it this desperately. So why are you here, John?”

John says nothing.

“Does he know you are here?”

John shakes his head no.

“Will he mind? I can fuck you, later, after you've slept a little. You've had too much to drink. Will he mind if you spend the night here? Huh?” Sam’s voice is kind and sexy and arousing. His show of concern above his own arousal is both titillating and infuriating. John just wants to pull back and tell Sam that Greg is not his ‘man’, but at the same time, he loves that idea. The idea that he would need Greg’s permission just to spend the night. That he would need Greg to approve of it before he gets thoroughly buggered is hot. It seems he takes too long to answer because Sam sighs. He pulls his hand from John’s trousers and places it on the couch. He is no longer touching John at all.

“I will take that as a no. Let’s take you home, let your man take care of you and then maybe another time we can meet up again.”

“Call him and get the address, Sam. I’ll get our coats.” Alexane steps away and heads to the bedroom. John takes that as a hint to pull away, his head is spinning and he feels rejected. He just wants to go home and sleep it off at this point.

“Hey” Sam whispers. His hand returning to John’s back to hold him there. “Just relax, you look tired. Take a nap and we’ll take care of everything.”

John places his head back against Sam’s shoulder and tries to relax. “It’s Greg”

John can hear the phone ringing and if he strains, he can hear Greg picking up the phone.

“Hi, Greg?...This is Sam, you met my wife Alexane a few days ago at Crosses...Yes, we are here with John and he is a bit pissed and we were wondering if we could get an address...Yes, I know where that is... okay... I will see you there”

 

~*~ 

John wakes up feeling groggy and tired. He goes to bathroom for a piss and then makes his way to the kitchen.

“Good morning, boyfriend” Greg laughs.

John groans at the thought of what might have been said last night.

“They were cute and sweet, and honest. Way too honest if you ask me but hey”

“What did they say?”

“Oh nothing much, except that you told them I was your partner and that we were open to other people. That you had had a bit too much to drink and were begging for a fuck and to feel wanted. I think they thought I was a shit boyfriend.” Greg laughs as he walks around the kitchen cleaning up his mess as he goes.

“What did you tell them then?”

“That you get like that when you drink and that I would take care of you.”

“Thanks mate, sorry about that. The whole boyfriend thing and -”

Greg shakes his head. “Don’t even worry about it. This whole thing was about Sherlock, I presume”

“He is fucking dating! Did you know that? Have you met the bloke? He is basically Sherlock. How is that even possible?”

“I haven’t met him yet actually. But if you want I can be your fake boyfriend for a little longer because you look like you need a hug, and cuddle, and maybe a good wank.” Greg laughs again as he pulls John into a hug.

Greg feels good.

He is always laughing and joking.

He makes John feel calm and safe.

He makes John feel good. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please do leave me some constructive criticism where I need it, some love if you feel it, and some hellos for the hell of it.  
> Enjoy! ^_^


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